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December and the Thul, Part III
Porter turns toward Staunton. "Let's go see Xavin." Staunton nods, turning for the aisle. "Will they let us back or should we wait at the backstage door?" Jasra catches Carduus' look and smirks back at him, as sh stops clapping and sits back down, "Think I'll let the crowd thin before heading out, what do you think, Artist?" Porter chuckles, shrugging. "I figured we'd just walk down. Worse comes to worse, I pull rank or something." He winks, then begins to make his way along the row of seats toward the steps that lead down toward the stage. Cross says, "You got things under control, Aqua? I'm going to go talk to someone." Aquaeyes says, "Yes Sir, I do.." Cliff drops his hands to his sides, shifting to get nearer to Porter, not noticing that he has other places he intends to go. "'Ey! Sir! Sir!" Nearing, he extends a hand, putting on the best 'Look, I'm Polite!' smile he can. Point and laugh, everyone. Aquaeyes waves folks gently by her with a smile, keeping an eye on Cliff. Porter eyes Cliff darkly, looking him up and down. "You have a nerve or muscle disorder that keeps your hand from making it to salute position?" Carduus shrugs wordlessly and nods, following Jasra's lead. "I don't have anywhere to go.", he admits, lounging out a bit less formally now that the performance is over. He blinks his eyes a few times at the lights, smiling. Cross nods absently, steering through the crowd as he makes his way down the amphitheater stairs. Thunderhand grins and flips some sweat off his own brow as he says to Xavin, who walks offstage with him, "You're too kind." WindSong steps softly from the stage, looking at his feet. He nods and thanks a few people that come to greet him with a whisper. Azzan keeps an eye on the group that comes down, and moves forward a bit, as if expecting one or more of them to recognize. Xavin enters from the stage door, the black leather guitar case slung over his back as he preempts the CSIS officers stepping toward him, "I'd rather not have an escort. My thanks." He nods sternly toward the men, beginning his trek up the amphitheatre stairs. Cliff's lips part for a moment, as he resists the urge to shrug, striking a crisp salute - A bit late, however. "Uh, sorry, sir... I'm Grant. Pvt. Grant?" Aquaeyes keeps on eye on her guards, using subtle hand signals they understand to keep the crowd flowing. Porter nods curtly. "Private Grant. Yes. I'll remember that." He lifts his eyebrows, then looks back toward Staunton. "Coming, Major?" Staunton falls in line behind the colonel. "Right behind you, Sir." Cross steps from behind the two CSIS officers flanking Xavin, "Sorry, I'm going to have to insist on that one.", he says, bass voice rumbling slightly. Volidana grins as she sees Porter and Staunton heading for Xavin and proceeds across to join them. Thunderhand rubs his biceps absentmindedly as he flags down the CSIS guys who are headed for Xavin. "I have a use for you ... that kit up onstage, some friends of mine from Quaquan brought here for me. Their names are Mixedeyes and Fleetarm. Could you make sure that they can get upstage to collect it?" Aquaeyes shoots her eyes toward Cross and heads toward the stage and Thunderhand at an even pace. Xavin grins toward the Guardian Corporal, easing his pace to match the man's. "I'm drenched with my own sweat, Victor. I'm warning you now." Cliff scowls a bit, dropping his hand as he stares towards Porter, moving away. Tonguing the inside of his cheek, he slowly remains as they both move away, failure painted all over his face as he was shrugged off. The only thing keeping him from releasing a string of obscenities, of course, is that that would do nothing more than make the situation -worse-. Azzan heads off purposefully torward Thunderhand, faint smile coming to his face. WindSong seems a little aquward at the CSIS officers that have come to flank him, but he shruggs and makes his way slowly to the back of the amphitheater through the crowds. Cross looks at Xavin curiously, shaking his head, "I can see that,", he glances back at the stage, "I only caught the tail end of the concert, but it looked like it was hit from this end." Porter makes his way down the steps, followed by Major Staunton. As he gets closer to Xavin, he extends a hand, the smile returning. "Corporal, excellent performance." He nods to the other performers. "By all of you." WindSong nods and says softly to Porter, "I thank you, sir." Thunderhand nods his thanks shyly to Porter, his discussion with the CSIS red-shirted ensigns apparently done. Xavin clasps the Colonel's hand with a dashing smile as he reaches him. His pause on the stairs have cluttered the area, with a group of Demarian kits scrambling for a closer view of the Timonae. "Let's just hope some good comes of it." Aquaeyes walks up to Thunderhand with a smile as the two guards fall into position to escort Xavin. "Thunderhand, isn't it?" Aqua smiles. "What was the name of your friends who will pick up your equipment? I'll make sure they are able to." Cliff turns away coldly, stomping off and out of the ampitheather, muttering a lengthy string of obscenities worthy of the sailor he is. Kastaprulyi wanders in the direction of the stage. Thunderhand turns to Aquaeyes as she approaches him, and nods. "Thunderhand I am," he says. "My friends are Mixedeyes and Fleetarm. They need to be let up onstage - they'll take the kit back to Quaquan. And you are?" Aquaeyes says, "Guardian Aquaeyes CSIS Communications." Staunton approaches from behind the Colonel, and nods. "It really was a very moving concert, Mr..." She pauses, looking for a moment at the leather guitar case, then back. "It was good, Xavin." Azzan says loudly as he approaches, "Handy!" he waves an arm in the air to bring attention to himself, grin on his face broadening. Porter smiles slightly, then nods. "I'm sure it'll do some good." WindSong looks at those that surround him, grins slightly and bends down to one small Demarian that is asking for an autograph and inscribes the program carefully. Thunderhand grins. "An appropriate title." He turns as his nickname is called. He waves at Azzan and stands up on his tiptoes to gesture to where the performer's route ends outside the theatre. As a pair of Sundez-like rockers press through the crowd to start talking to him, he nods and points again before coming down and talks briefly about the different sticks he uses. Xavin dips his head respectfully toward the Major, reaching up to untie the silver bandana. As the cloth is folded into the Timonae's hand, it reveals a mess of damp locks that equal the color. "I'll return to duty as soon as my instrument is stoed." Glancing up toward the crowd still filtering from the arena, he smiles haphazardly. "Though that may prove to take some time." Aquaeyes turns, smiling at the kits, and gently pats one as she passes her. Carduus puts his arm around Jasra once more, pulling her close. "So who are we waiting for, mon cherie?", he asks with a silly tone, his eyes twinkling green and brown specks. Staunton laughs despite herself. "You can take a little time to gloat, don't worry," she says. Porter nods. "Sure. But just because you're a performing icon doesn't mean you're relieved of KP." Azzan gives a nod, and starts outside of the theatre quickly. Jasra grins at Carduus, "Waiting fro the crowd to thin." she glances down the slope, "Think it's thin enough yet?" WindSong rises to his feet after doing a few more autographs and continues to move forward, looking at the mass of people with true amazement. He whispers something in Navajo under his breath. Volidana reaches her superior officers. Smiling broadly, she turns first to the flutist. "Volir's light to you. Thank you for sharing your gift with us." Aquaeyes looks around, making sure everything is going smoothly. Cross comments, "If you can avoid being mobbed." He nods, acknowledging the VES officers in turn, "Colonel. Major.", he states. His hands have wandered behind his back, and he looks around slowly, eyes stopping on members of the crowd from time to time. Xavin quirks a humorous eyebrow, "Gloat? It isn't often you overestimate, Major. And not often you, underestimate Colonel Porter. The job was done two days prior." He smiles in exhausted satisfcation before reaching over to lightly punch Cross' shoulder. "So does this escort know a faster way out of this place?" Thunderhand is handed a felt-tip pen and a pair of drumsticks. He scrawls his name across one, and a short message on the other, and hands them back. He nods to Aquaeyes. "Sorry, but I should probably go find somewhere to take a shower," he says, pulling his sweat-soaked shirt off of his body a little. "Thank you very much, Aquaeyes," he says, and walks towards knot of people around Xavin. Aquaeyes says, "You're welcome, Thunderhand." Thunderhand says, "A quick exit would be much appreciated, friends of Xavin, if you'd permit me to bring up the rear." Porter chuckles at Xavin, then looks toward Staunton. "He thinks I'm talking about the *last* KP assignment." Carduus raises his eyebrows, yawning slightly before using the back of his hand to plug his maw. That urge sated, he pulls his arm away. "Depends on what for.", he retorts. WindSong nods at the Light Singer, "I thank you, but all credit must go to the Great spirit for the gift. What is your name?" He takes a corner of the bottom of his shirt and mops his brow. Jasra stands and pulls her trenchcoat around her, "For getting through, Artist. Now up with you." she reaches to take his hand and tug him up. Staunton smirks at that and nods to Cross. "Good evening, Mr. Cross. Did you get to see much of the show?" Cross shrugs, "Left my magic teleporter in the other uniform." He smirks, "You managed to draw a pretty good crowd." He turns toward the Major, "Only the tailend, Major. I was otherwise occupied, unfortunately." Aquaeyes flicks her tail nodding to a couple of the marines and they move toward the rows closer to the stage to stand as the rows empty Kastaprulyi ducks around the crowds, making for the door. Carduus purses his lips, letting her pull him up but putting a little weight behind it. "Ahh.", he chuckles, moving in line behind her to get out of their row. Jasra chuckles and leads Carduus semi-willing towards the gate, falling in behind the end of the line. Volidana smiles "My name is Volidana" she says "and the gifts are indeed Volir's to give but we must open and ready to accept them. Clearly you spend much time listening to his voice" Staunton shakes her head. "No rest for the weary," she says with a sigh. "And in that vein, I do have some things to get back to on the ship" She turns once again to Xavin. "But thank you for inviting us, Mr. Carazz." Xavin nods toward the officer, staring up at the crowd. "I think I might have an idea here." He gestures toward the stage with a tilt of the head. "Follow me." And begins the trek down the stairway to the amphitheatre's center. Porter nods to the major, then looks toward Xavin. "I've got some supply requisitions to sign off on before we head to Centauri." That said, he turns and begins to walk upstairs. Thunderhand, now unpestered, starts shuffling past the knot of people around Xavin and heads for the exit. As he passes, he says, "You've done your duty on one front tonight, Xavin," and grins, "Good luck in your duty on others. I shall see you about, eh?" Thunderhand turns away and disappears down the performer's lane, off into the distance. Carduus puts a wry smirk on his face as he straightens his jacket. "Why you in a hurry now?", he asks quietly. Aquaeyes looks at the Demmie kits. "Off with you now..go on" she chuckles as they spread out, heading for the exit. Xavin merely extends a palm toward Thunderhand, heading down to the stage. Staunton follows behind Xavin, eyes taking in the more technical aspects of the backstage area. Xavin glances sideways toward his compatriots as he takes the stairs two at a time. "With your approval, Major, I'd like Victor to accompany us back to the Minerva. There's been some developments." He smirks slightly, running a hand through the dampened hair. Azzan is standing outside the theatre, talking to the Qua. Porter walks down the path leading to the residential quarter, unclipping the datapad from his belt. Thunderhand shrugs. "No worries. I barely made it myself," he remarks. "How'd the audience like the concert? I was a little occupied to check the crowd." He grins. Azzan grins, "Well, if there's ever another, count me in. I wish I could've been up there with you all. They utterly loved it from my point of view, could've used a bassist." Kastaprulyi seems to peer around the Timonae at Thunderhand, keeping quiet for the moment. Porter makes his way toward the monorail station. KMF-242 makes music as it stands in the center of the large room. The sounds are all from the concert just heard, and it seems to be trying to recompose. Porter glances curiously at the Phyrrian, then smiles and nods. Every recomposition follows similar patters. Sometimes, it grates on the ear, even though it sounds just like the previous. Other times, the slightest divergence in a single note causes the music to actually sound better than the original, if that is possible. Porter continues smiling as he heads toward the monorail station. Buteo Limousines Cab - 9327 fires its braking thrusters as it arrives. The lighted sign atop the yellow hoverlimo switches on indicating availability. Buteo Limousines Cab - 9327 whirs to a stop near the Spring Dome. The driver's side window rolls down. A pasty faced man with a Kaiser Bill moustache inquires: "Conveyance?" KMF-242 stands in the middle of the quarter, people passing it by, listening to it remix the concert that just played. It seems to be testing sound, and the way certain sounds work together. Xavin glances toward the Major as the cab approaches. "Cottington promised a limousine following the concert." His eyes focus narrowly upon Buteo. "After you, Marlan." He gestures toward the door. Marlan turns her eyes to the limousine and grins as she steps inside. Marlan climbs into the yellow hoverlimo. Staunton nods. "Well, if Cottington is providing it for free, this doesn't surprise me at all." Staunton climbs into the yellow hoverlimo. Xavin smirks and glances to Cross as he enters the limo. "I wonder which is deeper, Cottington's pockets or his ability to keep them that way." Xavin climbs into the yellow hoverlimo. Marlan notes, "Don't think I've been in one of these before." her hands smoothing out the simuleather. "And hey, we've got a super star in our midst now Major..we'v got to get used to these concessions." she grins. Kastaprulyi drifts through the crowds in the direction of the monorail, pausing here and there to circle an interesting group. Loud salsa music begins to blare from the radio. "SQUAWK!" proclaims a frazzled-looking osprey within its cage on the front passenger seat. Buteo glances through the partition and grins. "Buteo is most curious: To what destination will you be traveling this evening?" KMF-242 stands in the middle of the quarter, people passing it by, listening to it remix the concert that just played. It seems to be testing sound, and the way certain sounds work together. Some times, the music will be jarring to most, other times, it will be better. The Phyrrian changes tempo, beat, octave, everything about the songs it remixes. Cross waits for the others to enter the limo. He stands by the open door for a moment, scanning the crowds. With a satisfied look, he enters. Cross climbs into the yellow hoverlimo. Xavin ducks as he presses toward the back of the hoverlimo, easing into one of the disgustingly apholstered seats. In a humble attempt to ignore Marlan's tease he leans forward toward the plastic window, "Military vessel hangar, by your grace." Aquaeyes looks around, checks her comm she waves at Kas in greeting Staunton draws back at the loud squawking, cutting her eyes at Xavin. "You sure you're not up for a nice walk?" Kastaprulyi returns a feeling of greeting, sliding closer to Aquaeyes. "Hello..." Loud salsa music plays on the car stereo. The osprey caged on the front passenger seat ruffles its feathers and glowers huffily at the driver. Buteo nods to the Timonae. "Military vessel hangar. Yes, I think Buteo remembers the way." Aquaeyes speaks into her commlink, "Corporal Cross I have secured the Theater and made my report" Aquaeyes says, "Did you enjoy the music Kas?" Cross comments, "At least it's caged now." Xavin raises an eyebrow, "They have birds on Centauri, Major?" The lighted sign atop the yellow hoverlimo switches off indicating it is in service and taking no more passengers. Cross speaks into his commlink, "Roger, Guardian. Good job, I'll see you back at the station in a while." KMF-242's music making continues to the point where it's hard to recognize the original music from the concert that just played. Staunton shakes her head slowly. Aquaeyes speaks into her commlink, "Yes Sir" Buteo engages the drive, grips the control wheel and begins to arc the cab around as one brass-heavy song ends and another begins with a thumping bongo beat. Kastaprulyi agrees, "I liked seeing the concert." Aquaeyes says, "I did too even though I was on duty, I think it will help" Buteo Limousines Cab - 9327 whirs in an arc away from the Spring Dome. Marlan leans back, eyes surveying the limos interior. "You know..it's a shame the seats scratched like this." she says, fingering the scratch marks. "SQUAWK!" proclaims the osprey over the music, pecking angrily at the bars of its cage. Xavin rounds his shoulders, speaking through an impish smile. "I'll enjoy what we have, then." Carduus wanders into the Residential Quarter, grumbling quietly and standing on his tiptoes of his boots to see over at least some of the crowd. Kastaprulyi inquires, "What do you think will be helped?" Jasra comes out of the spring dome just ahead of Carduus, laughing and glancing back at him. She turns and stops to let him catch up, "Drinks or dinner." she asks him. Aquaeyes says, "Oh the concert was to raise credits for those ill from that recent disease" Though clearly not finished with all the posible recompositions of the concert, KMF-242 stops. It pushes itself higher on the four metallic legs, standing to over 8 feet in height to look out over the crowd. Lowering itself once more, it moves, skittering slowly towards the Commercial Quarter. Buteo shakes his head, sighing. "Hero, my devoted friend and sometime nemesis, you must not be so belligerent. Buteo knows you are hungry. One moment, my feathered friend." He leans to look back through the partition, nodding to Staunton. "If you please, look under the passenger's side seat and you will find a small wicker cage containing a most juicy and delectable field mouse." Carduus shrugs a shoulder as he puts his hand on Jasra's. "Dinner's gonna be leftovers, remember?", he teases. "Won't keep for too much longer." Kastaprulyi circles around to the Demarian's shoulder and asks curiously, "Do you guess that helps better than news reports?" Staunton straightens in her seat. Her face, however, shows no change in expression. "No," she says flatly. "I assure you that I won't." Aquaeyes says, "Both do Kas, the News report lets everyone know what is happening, how they are progressing with a cure and the concert will raise credits to help them continue there research so they can find the cure faster" Jasra chuckles at Carduus' poutiness, "Oh yeah... forgot. What would I do without you to remind me, Artist." she mock-pouts right back at him. Marlan turns her eyes to Staunton and breaks out laughing. Xavin focuses his attention on the bandana in hand, eyes drifting up to glimpse the Major's reaction before darting down to his lap in an effort to mask his bemusement. Buteo knits his eyebrows. "You would starve poor Hero?! Cruelty incarnate!" As he continues to drive, he uses his right hand to lift the cage with the bird, setting it on the floor board. The cab swerves just a bit as he does this, his attention distracted from driving. Marlan makes no such attempt, "Come on major." she says, the laughter dying away and turning into a grin, "The poor birds hungry..feed 'em his dinner!" this is said just before he reaches for the cage. Buteo Limousines Cab - 9327 swerves slightly as it heads toward the commercial quarter. KMF-242 seems to randomly stop and look to the being closest to it as it says, "Define music in personal terms." The direction of question, it seems, is towards Aquaeyes or Kastaprulyi. Aquaeyes looks at KMF-242 "Pleasant combination of sounds that enhances emotional states" Carduus shrugs again, this time the other shoulder. "So...the question is, you wanna go eat our wonderful nuked leftovers, or what?", he asks, his eyes half-lidded, his grin becoming lopey. Cross glaces at the passenger side seat curiously, trying to get a look at said field mouse. The swerve jostles him, slightly, and he looks at Buteo with a withering glare, "You mind looking out the window while you're driving, I haven't got a hell of a lot of desire to become one with the deck any time soon." He watches Marlan reach for the cage and he settles back, muttering, "Cheap bastard.", angrily. The centrifugal force from the turn sends the major pitching toward Cross with a startled cry. "Dammit. What's the matter with you, Buddy?" Kastaprulyi seems to wait for Aquaeyes' response before replying thoughtfully, "I don't know much about music. I like the patterns, the way people change from them." "Is there a common pattern among all beings to what is considered music?" KMF-242 asks. "For instance, was the concert this evening considered good music by all beings?" Buteo shrugs, grinning sheepishly at Staunton, watching her in the rearview mirror. "Buteo is sorry, but I asked you to assist in this matter. You chose not to, most vociferously. I have little choice. My feathered comrade has needs that must be met. It would be great folly for me to refuse." That said, he uses his right hand to lift the front passenger seat cushion, revealing a wicker cage beneath. Again, the car swerves slightly. He quickly corrects to straighten the course, however. Buteo Limousines Cab - 9327 swerves once more continuing on its course toward the commercial quarter. Aquaeyes says, "Probably not, each person has there likes and dislikes in the forms of music they enjoy. Generally those that did attend the concert probably liked the type of music played here tonight" Jasra giggles and slips her hand around Carduus' elbow as they walk along, "Let's go eat, Artist. Before you embrasse me." Aquaeyes says, "Those that didn't like this style of music probably would not have attended." Staunton straightens herself again, jaw set. "Mr. Cross, are you going to shoot this guy in the back of the head or am I?" Xavin raises a stiletto-thin eyebrow toward Staunton. "Come now, Major. It isn't such a difficult task, is it?" Staunton rolls her eyes at the driver, then quips, "Don't push it, Carazz. I think Mr. Steele is making lasagne for dinner and that makes a real mess. "The musical scale commonly played is only 5 notes. There are limited combinations of pattern. Is it beat that defines a musical style?" KMF asks, not moving now that it is questioning. Cross grins at Staunton, "I doubt he'd drive any worse, Major." Marlan chuckles, "He *does* do a good job cleaning those floors doesn't he." Aquaeyes speaks into her commlink, "Corporal Cross Im now off duty, do you wish a meeting tomarrow?" Buteo lifts the cage from the underside of the seat. As the salsa tune begins to thrum in full brassy crescendos, the mouse inside the cage dashes back and forth, squeaking pathetically. The bird in its larger cage eyes the mouse hungrily. Marlan's chuckling dies down as the mouse begins squealing, "Hey, maybe they're right...can't you wait to drop us off before you feed him that thing?" KMF-242 waits in silence for an answer, unmoving. Xavin grins his reply, folding one leg over the other and leaning back against the cushioned seat to view the scene outside. "I wonder what INN thought of the performance." Cross speaks into his commlink, "Sure, Aqua, I'll been in the officer by 2200."" Aquaeyes looks at the unit "Yes you are correct" Kastaprulyi circles around the Phyrrian. "Beat matters. Lots of notes can happen in the time one's still thinking about the ones before." Carduus nods slowly, leading the two towards the monorail station. "Works for me. Day old potato salad. Mmmmmm.", he murmurs, chuckling. Aquaeyes speaks into her commlink, "Yes Sir, I wish to discuss advanced training in some of my skills, will meet you in the office after your arrival" Buteo sets the cage with the mouse on the middle area between the driver and passenger seats, closes the cushion on the passenger seat, and then leans over to pick the osprey cage off the floor board. The car lurches hard to the right. Buteo Limousines Cab - 9327 lurches suddenly to the right approaching a T-shirt vendor selling STOP TRV! shirts. Aquaeyes says, "Kas Im off duty now and going to my apartment, I will talk to you soon" Kastaprulyi wishes, "Be well." Cross starts to lean toward the divider. His eyes widen as he sees the hoverlimo's impending target, "Damn it, get your eyes on the road." Staunton lets out a long, hissing sigh and grabs for something to hold onto as the taxi lurches again. "You know, Mr. Carazz, nothing helps a career in entertainment more than dying young." Marlan hangs on to her seat, "This guy crazy?" she asks. "Understood." KMF-242 states to Kastaprulyi. It raises a little and begins to walk away. Xavin grips the rim of the faux-leather seat, eyes intently peering out the glass of the window. "What will be, will be Major." He smirks in a demeanor that radiates too calmly. Then, seeing the T-Shirt stand, the Timonae wrinkles his brow, straightening in his seat. "By Maza, leave the bird alone!" Kastaprulyi doesn't seem particularly interested in a robot, continuing off in the direction of the train. Buteo is picking up the cage with the osprey in it when he sits upright and sees he's rapidly approaching the T-shirt vendor. His eyes widen: "Hero! Look what you have caused!" He drops the cage on its side, then jerks the wheel to the left, correcting his course. The osprey's cage door falls open. The mouse cage shifts off the front seat and thumps on the floor board, popping open. The mouse scampers quickly out, survival instinct kicking in. Buteo Limousines Cab - 9327 just barely avoids hitting the T-shirt stand swerving back toward the commercial quarter. Cross breathes a sigh of relief, sinking back into his seat, "Do me a favor, leave the bird alone until we get there." Marlan announces, voice urgent, "Those things are loose!" The cab is currently occupied and driving somewhat erratically. Staunton groans, bracing herself with one hand on the headliner of the taxi. "Remind me to send Cottington a thank you note, Corporal." Buteo smiles broadly, looking back at the passengers. "Nothing to be concerned about. The turnoff for the flight deck shaft is just ahead. Please secure all valuables and remain seated." He tweaks his Kaiser Bill moustache, then goes back to driving. Buteo Limousines Cab - 9327 fires its hoverthrusters and maneuvers away heading into the superstructure through a broad hatch marked AUTHORIZED VEHICLES ONLY! Concordance Station Flight Deck A high, broad chamber that serves as the flight prep and launch deck for the Concordance Station colony ship. A blister module high atop the port wall, above the entrance, serves as the control tower. To starboard, a wide slit opens onto the blackness of space. The cargo bay is aft. A muster room is fore. Burn marks and rubble from broken vessels litter the area. Buteo Limousines Cab - 9327 fires its braking thrusters as it arrives. As the hoverlimo fires its braking thrusters and settles on the flight deck, it does so at an angle. The osprey's cage rolls slightly, and the bird squawks angrily. The salsa music continues to pound out of the speakers. The bird ruffles its feathers and its golden eyes glint as it seems to realize the cage is open. The Timonae's knuckles whiten as they grip the guitar firmly. As the cab clears the residential quarter, Xavin is nearly thrown from his seat but manages to catch himself before meeting the cage's fate on the limousine's flooring. The little white field mouse scampers out from under the passenger seat, at Staunton's feet. Cross is in a bit of a jumble, having been tossed around. He fights to sit back up, growling, "I swear to god, I'm going to have Urf dismantle this damn thing." Despite the fact that the taxi is still coming to a halt, Staunton begins pushing Cross toward the door. "Go, go, go." Buteo continues driving across the flight deck. He leans forward, watching the large hangar openings. "Civilian hangar. Cargo bay. Ah, yes, military vessel hangar." Xavin rises from his seat, signaling the drive and raising his voice so that it can be heard through the plexiglass. "This is fine, sir, lower us." Hero muscles his way out of the cage, flutters his wings and lifts his beak, squawking before leaping into the air, settling on the seat and then shoving his way through the partition's opening. It eyes the white mouse, which has now made it next to Marlan's feet. Cross gives Staunton a strange look, "I would, but this maniac is still driving." He tests the door, "Besides, its locked." Buteo glances over his shoulder, jaw dropping in dismay. "Hero! This is most unacceptable!" Marlan leans down in an attempt to grab the small mouse, "Someone get that bird, not gonna let us go until he has him." The mouse dodges Marlan's grip, skittering under the driver's seat. Xavin lifts his feet above Marlan's head as she attempts to scramble for the rodent. Losing his balance he topples over toward the Major beside him. Hero squawks and divebombs the back floorboard, flapping his wings and slapping feathers in the face of Marlan and Xavin as he extends his talons and tries to snatch the mouse skittering toward the driver's seat. Xavin lifts his arms up in an instinctive defense, squinting his eyes and kicking his foot toward the bird, managing only to nail Cross in the shin with his combat boot. Cross bangs on the partition, "Stop this damn,", he starts, cursing as Xavin's foot meets his shin with a loud crack, "Goddamn it, Xavin." Marlan shouts an exclamation as Xavin comes down on top of her as the bird's wings flutter in her face, "What is this!" she calls out, hands moving down to protect her head as she sees Xavin's foot come flying across. Military Vessel Hangar ~Concordance Station~ A massive hangar with an arched ceiling, bearing the logos of the various military organizations represented aboard the Sanctuary colony vessel. Mechanics and technicians work on fighters and other larger craft, making repairs and providing upgrades. A broad archway leads into the flight deck. Buteo shakes his fist as he drives. "Hero, you will not hear the end of this for SOME time!" Xavin retracts his foot quickly, the bird's wing slapping him across the cheek and sending his head awkwardly into Staunton's lap. "I swear through the Lady's smile," his voice drops. The bird squawks, settling on the floor board and then eyeing the Timonae who tried to kick him. Larger. Meatier than some tiny morsel of a mouse. "RAWK!" the bird proclaims, flapping and leaping. Marlan is meanwhile crouched down, trying to protect herself from the flying arms and bodies on either side of her. "No, Hero! Desist!" cries Buteo, slamming on the brakes. The bird suddenly lurches to the left and thumps against the partition, falling to the floor board in a daze. Xavin reaches down instictively for one of the pistols holstered at his thighs, forgetting his casual clothing. Watching the bird hit the floor of the cab his breathing steadies somewhat and he lifts himself from the Major's lap, eyes circling between the group. Buteo presses a button, smiling winningly in the rearview mirror. "Buteo hopes you have enjoyed your conveyance! Enjoy your evening on Concordance Station. Come again!" Marlan topples forward some as the cab brakes hastily, luckily her momentum doesn't carry her with quite as much force as Hero. As the cab doors unlcok she sits up slowly, eyes scanning the others as if to ensure that it is in fact over. Salsa music blares from the speakers. The white mouse scrambles out around Cross' feet. The slightly stunned osprey eyes the mouse and squawks a little weakly before ruffling his feathers, preparing to pounce. Cross slams back into his seat as the cab stops. His head lifts as he hears the familiar click of the door lock, and, without thinking, he's already grabbed the handle, opening the door. He rushes toward freedom, seeing the mouse just in time to avoid stepping on it. Of course, this throws him off balance, and he falls toward the door, hand just barely catching the door jam and keeping him from falling out. Staunton straightens her jacket, color high in her cheeks. "Mr. Carazz, I think I'll walk next time." The mouse sees the osprey coming, and dodges back under the driver's seat with a squeak, leaving a leaping bird snapping its beak at the leather of Cross' boot. Xavin rises slowly from the seat, awaiting the exit of his compatriots before ducking toward the hatch of the limousine. As he passes Hero, he stares down toward the osprey with pursed lips. Cross turns his head, looking over his shoulder and down at the birf, "What the hell is that ratty looking chicken doing?" He nudges the osprey with his bootheel, not bothering to be particularly gentle about it. The osprey squawks as it takes a bootheel in the craw, snapping angrily before the mouse peeks out from the passenger side floor board. The movement catches Hero's gleaming eye, and he launches himself at the mouse. Buteo clears his throat. "Hero! Enough, my feathered friend! Buteo will take you home and provide you with sustenance. Two rats? A chihuahua? Your wish is my command." Cross uses the opportunity to launch himself out the door. Marlan shakes her head, "I'm getting out of here." she says, scrambling to exit the limo she so happily entered just a few minutes ago. Staunton is right behind the marine without another word. Cross is standing a couple of meters away from the hoverlimo, trying to look at the heel of his left boot. There's a ragged gash in it, which he frowns at, cursing. Xavin smirks slightly to the osprey, then ducks beneath the entryway to step out of the cab. Xavin shakes his head slightly as he steps down from the cab, his eyes darting immediately toward Cross. "You're alright, Victor?" Staunton walks away from the hoverlimo straightening the hem of her jacket and muttering under her breath. Cross says, "I'm fine.", his gaze turns from the bootheel to the hoverlimo, eyes narrowing. Xavin nods curtly as he makes his way toward the Minerva, starting up the boarding platform to the airlock. "Let's get on board then before the raptor launches out the hatch after us." Staunton says, "Right behind you." Xavin enters an access code and boards the VES Minerva. See also *December and the Thul, Part I *December and the Thul, Part II 1c